


Burning at Both Ends

by Ukthxbye



Series: Don't Complicate It [14]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Greg Lestrade & Sherlock Holmes Friendship, Greg is a bit not good, Minor Irene Adler/Sherlock Holmes, Minor Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Mycroft Being Mycroft, POV Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock is a Brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-24 22:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22205392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukthxbye/pseuds/Ukthxbye
Summary: Sherlock and Mycroft visit Greg to discuss the criminal case of the Moriarty copycat. But Sherlock finds a weary Greg more interesting than the case.
Relationships: Irene Adler/Greg Lestrade
Series: Don't Complicate It [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1301933
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Burning at Both Ends

The clicking of keyboard filled his ears as he finished case notes on a report. But the song was missing something. His phone sat still and dark on his desk for days now. Or a week? He'd kept the rule. She'd done the same and it for the best he tried to convince himself. He'd gotten more work done. Closed a couple cases. But each evening he fell asleep with a little too much beer in his system. 

The handcuffs remained wrapped around the bedposts and he slept on the edge of the bed to avoid them. 

He'd tossed and turned the night before until the words in his head dragged him out to find a clean sheet of paper and pen. He stared at the chair she sat in reminding him the cost of his gift to her and let the odd relief and grief sit like a stone on his rib cage as he wrote.

She'd never read it, he assumed and if he was honest, hoped. Because it wouldn't fix anything. Her feet couldn't take her far away fast enough then, he mused. But once spilled out, he breathed easier and resignation settled in his mind as he fell asleep on the sofa at 3 AM.

He rubbed his eyes, weariness settling in the late afternoon slump. But he knew today needed to be an office day. He'd expected a visit sooner but then the British government doesn't have the same timetable.

The door swung open and Sally's face said who it was without a word and Mycroft stepped in, followed by Sherlock to Greg's surprise.

He stood, nodding at both men but rolled his eyes at Sherlock's grin. The last person he wanted sticking his nose into fresh wounds. He knew that grin too well. 

Sherlock pointed at Greg, "How'd get that?"

"None of your damn business."

"Hmm, really?" Sherlock's smug glance exchanged with Greg's irritated one produced a sigh from Mycroft.

"There is business to attend to," he said as he sat, pulling his leather case in his lap, opening it and rifling with folders.

Sherlock stared at Lestrade and he glared back. _Let him read me, he'll do it, anyway._ _But perhaps he'll read I not in the mood for his bullshit._

"Our suspect… we'll call him a Moriarty copycat—"

Sherlock grunted and huffed.

Mycroft's tight smile spoke volumes, Greg thought.

"He's not Moriarty anything," Sherlock said, his head tilted all the way back as he slumped in the chair.

Mycroft cast a glare at his brother. "His lack of impressive intellect aside he has threatened the crown and safety of—"

"Booooooring" Sherlock drawled before standing to his feet to pace.

Mycroft huffed shaking his head and slid a folder across to Greg.

Some papers fluttered and Greg adjusted them, shifting the contents of his pockets he'd emptied earlier to the side.

"As you can see by our tracing from his original location, we've triangulated an area he likely secured to regroup and recover," Mycroft said, pointing out places on a satellite print out.

Sherlock leaned over the desk and Greg waited for him to join in the discussion but the hair in his neck stood up when Sherlock spoke. 

"So this receipt for Sanders floral on your desk is for—"

Sherlock put his hand on the paper and Greg grabbed it at the same time. The two struggled in a tug of war, both grabbing each other's hands trying to peel fingers off desperate for control. 

"Sherlock! Please! Mycroft gritted through his teeth staring at his brother; "Sit and focus for once!"

With a huff, he released the receipt, spun on his heel and slumped in a chair against the wall. 

"Bloody hell... a man can't have peace can he?" Greg mumbled under his breath. 

A scoffing snicker escaped from Sherlock. "Saw the amount. Someone _really_ wanted to be impressive.   
  


Greg shoved it in a crumple in his pocket and leaned back rubbing his face hard, forgetting too late the wound and winced.

"We are not here to discuss his affairs," Mycroft said, his eyes cutting back and forth between the two men. He tapped hard with his finger on the evidence on the desk, "This is a matter of high importance of eliminating the threat of a copycat Moriarty."

"Your phone hasn't vibrated this... entire time," Sherlock said, keeping his eyes on Greg's mobile. "Unusual as of late."

Mycroft sighed leaning over rubbing his temples.

" Could have it turned off," Greg offered with a cocked chin. 

"It just lit up with a news notification," Sherlock smirked.

Greg smirked back, "So then maybe it always been news that made it buzz."

"Gavin—"

"Greg."

Sherlock huffed. "That's not even a decent answer so let's explore the facts before us."

Greg stood up, glaring and slammed his hand on the desk. "How about you explore this criminal out and get us an arrest and leave my personal business the hell alone!"

The two men held the other's stare, chins raised in defiant silence. 

Mycroft sat back, folding his hands at his lap, his stare off into the distance. He mumbled, "People in love are exhausting."

Greg didn't protest the statement and Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him as he went back to his seat. Greg sat down and slumped in his chair. 

  
"Sally's got some of our files if you need to see them," Greg said rubbing his forehead. "Meaning you Sherlock, I'm sure your brother's got them already."

"Our suspect's movement erratic for now. Deep team building not in his skill set.. He failed to get the former... associate he needed," Sherlock offered with a slight smile from his seat head all the way back looking at the ceiling. 

"Ah yes," Mycroft said glancing at Greg and hesitated but continued. " She and I had a lovely chat. She seems adequately reformed. We have deleted all records. You may check your own systems for confirmation." 

Mycroft stared silent at him. _Reading every reaction of mine I'm sure_ , Greg mused. No need to look at their records, he'd already checked.

"Deals a deal, eh?" Greg grinned wide. He knew Mycroft secreted away her record somewhere. Contingency a requirement, but for all intents and purposes, wiped from the rest of the world.

Greg turned back to Sherlock, and noted he'd straightened up, watching not blinking between him and Mycroft.

Greg cocked an eyebrow, glancing between the two, "Your brother not tell you then?"

Sherlock blinked and narrowed his eyes.

Mycroft sighed through his nose and pursed his lips." The deal was contingent on her innocence. You completed the tasking, and it proved useful to all."

"You planted a bug on her."

Both men turned to Sherlock at the statement. 

Sherlock tutted. "Gregory, she doesn't like anyone taking the upper hand like that. Ah there's the explanation of—"

" _How_ we obtained this intelligence, locations and 98 percent of his criminal network. Thank you, brother dear for that obvious fact," Mycroft rolled his eyes as he closed the folder and stood, placing it in his leather case. 

"We'll be in touch," Mycroft said. 

"Good day to you both," Greg said, adjusting in his seat to glance back at his computer screen.

"See you later, brother." Sherlock said without looking at Mycroft. 

Greg's eyes shot back to the two of them. But Mycroft only offered a slight shrug at Greg. _Was that pity?_ he thought.

Mycroft left and Greg stared rocking in his chair waiting for Sherlock to continue his questions. 

"I'm not telling you anything," Greg said before turning back to his computer.

Sherlock shoved his hands in his pockets and sat in the chair Mycroft left.

"I only asked out of concern."

"Concern?" Greg huffed. "You?"

Sherlock frowned. "This case is boring but you…"

"Jesus Sherlock—"

"And you're my friend."

Greg's eyes wide at the statement, as Sherlock scratched at his chin, as if he'd just said something obvious.

"So friends harass them about matters they'd rather not talk…"

Sherlock waved his hand. 

"It's part of the case in a way… maybe. Oh, fine… perhaps not, you'd rather I go back to being an arse?"

Greg thought about it. Weariness settled in and he sighed.

"Sure? Sometimes... but... yeah, ok... we all could use a friend sometimes."

They both let the air settle between them. 

"You aren't sleeping well." Sherlock said, his voice quieter and with no tone of mocking. 

"Got any advice or just observations?" 

Sherlock stared at Greg. "Less beer... perhaps talk to someone?"  
  


Greg snickered. "Like you?"

Sherlock shrugged, "A therapist is infinitely more useful."

Greg grabbed his pen up, fidgeting with it as he thought. 

Sherlock swallowed. "But... if there is no one else…"

"You?"  
  


"John or Molly might be better—"

Greg shook his head. "No, yeah... see, they can't know some things, can they?" He sniffed, tossing the pen down as he leaned back looking at the ceiling. "Yeah it's only been a week, each day a little better... Better off, right? Both of us."

"That's her favorite flower shop. And her favorite flowers you observed one of the few times you were at her's."

Greg nodded as he leaned back forward in his chair arms folded. 

"The ink stains on your index finger suggests you penned something late into the evening."

"Could be from work…"

"It's smart. It gives her an out if she reads it."

Greg nodded. "Me too." 

Greg waited to see if Sherlock had a retort but he only stared waiting. Greg sighed through his nose. "I don't regret it, even if she never talks to me again. She's free to do what she wants. Unbound by her past... well, people remember things don't they? But nothing on her record. People will forget over time. ,"

"They always do," Sherlock said. 

Another pause as Greg looked back at Sherlock. 

"It’s weird to say it but... thanks for saving her before."

"It was the best I could offer as an apology," Sherlock said low. "Yes, she was a criminal but I could see only a tiny cog in the machine. I exposed her cruelly." He snickered, raising his eyebrows, "It wasn’t, as they say, a good look."

"I'll not ask how... though I got an idea," Greg said.

Sherlock's face fell sheepish. "Sentiment. It's dynamite that burns from either end. I turned it on her when she thought she'd use it against me."

Greg ignored the jealous thought creeping in the back of his mind, tingling with frustration. He suspected, however brief, a fire burned between the two. He couldn't deny it would be a meeting of great minds. 

"Your choice, however forced, considerably less selfish than my own." Sherlock said, eyes steady on Greg's silent mobile. 

Greg shrugged, "It got the job done. The unselfish part debatable."

Sherlock nodded. "I listened to the recording from the bug. Same ol' Irene," he said with raised eyebrows and a chuckle. "She got the drop on our criminal in question and took his gun from him. Slipped in some great insults in there too."

Greg chuckled and relished the proud warmth in his chest for her getting one last victory on her own. 

"But it was very close," Sherlock spoke low with a furrowed brow. "Even criminals as stupid as him can make... precise mistakes."

  
Greg swallowed hard as his throat went dry at the thought of _what if_. He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah well she helped us get a lot of his team. We're closing in on our end. You'll finish the job as usual."

He paused, checking to see he had Sherlock's attention.

"Though I'm sure Molly'd appreciate if you don't have to play dead for a few years for it," he added, half a joke half a concern.

Sherlock's face fell and Greg studied it. 

Greg sighed, "You know, we all always knew she loved you. Unconditionally in your corner."

He shook his head, "Missed your part though."

Sherlock smiled and Greg noted the unexpected affection."There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact."

Greg sighed and dropped his eyes to his desk to avoid Sherlock's stare. _Too bad nothing seems obvious with Irene,_ Greg mused.

"Yes!" Sherlock stood up, adjusting his coat. "Enough of that. Do take care. Game is on and all ... wish it was better, you'll get me some nice murders soon, I'm sure."

"Anything for a friend," Greg grinned. "A good chase is all we need."

Sherlock chuckled. "Text me" said as he slipped out the door, shoving his hand in his coat pockets.

Greg sat for a moment, mulling over Sherlock's awkward attempt at being an actual friend. "Bless Molly," he snickered and vowed to take her lunch one day next week to say thank you. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Greg's not good. But it's ok. It's just a valley for now. Mouse9's gonna check in on Irene in our next story.
> 
> Listened to Gavin James's "Nervous" as a mood setter for Greg.


End file.
